THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE
Photograph from Harold Donaldson Eberlein
NUMBERED BELLS ADORN AN INN YARD
Newmarket has been the headquarters of horse racing in England
since the 17th century. One wonders what racing magnates' sum
monses these time-worn bells at the Rutland Arms have conveyed to
hostlers and "boots" (see, also, text, page 281).
to the bowling green at the time of her
progress to Worcester-that time when
she borrowed some hundreds of pounds
in Worcester which she always forgot to
repay.
From the walls look down old portraits,
and the rules of the green, made at a time
"to which the memory of man runneth
not back," are hung up so that all may
read. One of them orders that if a bowler
be convicted of profanity "he shall be
dragged over the green on the seat of his
breeches" and pay a fine of two shillings
for the benefit of the poor of the parish.
If the bowling green were a golf course,
the poor of Ombersley
parish would doubtless
be bloated plutocrats.
IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF
MR. PICKWICK
In your visits to old
inns, should you pre
fer to consort with de
parted guests of lesser
rank than kings and
queens and the great
ones of the earth, you
can have the amiable
company of sundry
Dickens characters at
such places as the Sar
acen's Head (now
called the Pomfret
Arms) at Towcester.
The Saracen's Head
figured in the "Pick
wick Papers" as the
meeting place of Slurk
and Pott.
At the Great White
Horse at Ipswich you
can like as not sleep in
the "tolerably large
double - bedded room
with a fire," and live
over again, in retro
spect, with Mr. Pick
wick his embarrassing
adventure with "the
middle-aged lad y in
yellow curl papers."
You could, in short,
find many a less stimu
lating diversion than
a tour of the Dickens
inns, with all the accompanying incidents
of scenery and inevitable adventure.
If you choose to follow up other literary
associations with old inns, there are scores
of them waiting to reward you with their
varied character. For example, there is
the Bell at Tewkesbury and its memory of
"John Halifax, Gentleman."
And Tewkes
bury is a pleasant spot in which to indulge
a literary quest.
STATELY MEMORIES HAUNT THE LION
BALLROOM
If you fancy more general reminders
of the social life of the past in its many
278